The Color Sequence
by DragonKaw
Summary: You've watched how they walk, talk and act. But how do you know the truths between the lies? Take away the filters of their minds. Delve into their thoughts, their wants and their dreams. -N


_begin_

You wake in a world of black and white. Or is it red and yellow? Purple and green? Orange and blue? This uncertainty is what it is like to be hurled into a new world.

It's not necessarily a new world, though. You know it's actually an old world, but it's completely unfamiliar nonetheless. The sky isn't blue enough. The trees grow too high. Their leaves sway too easily. Everything carries a essence of reality you never knew you needed.

It's overwhelming.

You collapse back on the bench. For the next few seconds, or minutes, or maybe even hours, you sit there. You watch the too-real petals float into a too-real sunset. Or is it a sunrise?

It doesn't matter. After all, you have all the time in the world.

…

(And yet, you never do.)

* * *

_proceed_

It's truly phenomenal. The power's all around you, and you can feel it, coursing through the monochrome world like it does through your veins. This knowledge and understanding of such power was born within you not so long ago.

You have no need to ball your fists, for projectiles will form in your hands if you so desire. Red orbs of swirling energy. Miniature suns, some call it.

You often disagree, saying that no, only a god could hold suns in its palm. You plaster this mask called smile on your face and feign modesty.

Truthfully? You agree.

Or at least you want to. You want to look on the other side, immerse yourself in the possibility of different opinions. But you have too much responsibility to explore the concepts of sentience, or the possibility of parallel universes, or the existence of separate time streams, or the ideas of different worlds.

There is no 'different' for you. You must stay constant, for that is why you were given your powers.

Eventually, you digress. This is no time for internal psychological discussions.

…

(For you, it always is.)

* * *

_resume_

You are a constant driving force, for that is what you decided to be. You haul the four others alongside you and they comply without complaint… or at least, not much complaint, and not all the time.

You take pleasure in wielding such power in your hands. You sometimes wonder what it would be like to have more power than you already have. Absolute power. You don't like to admit it, but the idea scares you.

You shy away.

You'll never admit it. The fear, the doubt. No, fear and doubt will never do, especially in a leader figure. It's only been a while since you've taken this club into your hands. You don't have time to worry about such human, down-to-earth emotions.

You venture on. Abnormality is like time; it won't wait for anyone.

…

(Especially not people like you.)

* * *

_slow down_

You've been roped into all of this against your will, though sometimes you wonder if it was really her fault. After all, it was you who was curious. It was you who turned in your seat and spoke the first word.

Then again, did you ever have a choice? What with all this time-travel mumbo-jumbo that your too-normal brain can't entirely process. Wasn't this all predetermined or something? After all, it's you who helped her draw that symbol so long ago. Technically, it's you who started it all.

It's your fault.

But what does it matter? This world is worth it, isn't it? That whole alternate-universe traipse proved that, didn't it? That just reinforced things. You've gotten yourself into this whole mess.

And when you were given the chance to get out, you just pressed the enter button and dug yourself deeper into this rut of abnormality. You know that if you're ever given a chance like that again, you're just going to crawl right back to the original, like a dog rushes to its master.

You sigh and walk on. No use in going in circles about it.

…

(It's worth it, you know.)

* * *

_stop_

Machines do not have free will. From countless studies gathered by various introspective races, you can predict that robotics do not have the ability to gain true sentient life. Many would call this a 'soul', the matter of which is a curious thing.

In the books you have read, the idea and concept of such a thing is often discussed. Some tend to think that there is an 'afterlife', or an endless plane of existence in which all people will experience eternal bliss. Some believe in the becoming of an energy form, and others believe in nothingness.

As for you? You cannot confirm the possibilities, and if they did exist, you cannot definitely answer whether you possess a 'soul' necessary to experience these possibilities. It all congregates into a single four-word inquiry.

Are you a machine?

Various self-scans provide different results. Over time you have found the errors accumulating. Errors, errors abound, mysterious errors that neither you nor the Data Integration Thought Entity can process without some form of minor corruption.

It is interesting. The Data Integration Thought Entity itself has explicitly mentioned the unimportance of these internal flaws, and yet you dwell on them. It is not in your programming to ponder unnecessary things, and yet you do. You are meant to observe, but you have observed for centuries, and your internal mechanism is wearing away due to the lack of change.

But in the end, you can only observe, for that is what you are meant to do. Whether you are a machine or not does not matter to this universe. Wondering will do nothing.

And yet, as you lay yourself down and the blankets cradle your body, you can't help but wonder anyways.

/activate sleep mode

/duration:8hr

/settings:wake only in case of emergency

/otheroptions:none

…

(You dreamed of color.)

* * *

_…_

_…_

_…_

_…_

_…_

_restart…?_

_y/n_


End file.
